Writing posts sometimes comes easily. And then other weeks, it does not. It's not that I don't have any ideas. I have a running Rolodex in my head of topics I want to write about or a sentence I want to make sure I get published in some post. I have random drafts waiting for further development. Sometimes the inspiration just isn't quite there or I'm just not quite up for it mentally. But these past couple of weeks have been go, go, go for me. I don't think I'm made for "hustle" culture.
Monday - Thursday
My niece and nephews are playing sports now [when I first wrote that sentence I typed out "neice" and I'm currently mortified with myself]. I have had the pleasure of running to their games after work. One day at work was particularly stressful. Watching [and laughing at] the chaos that is t-ball was just the ticket for my stress relief. But oh gah don't make me coach that. I can't handle being IN the chaos. Whew. No thank you. That is next level.
I got a message from a friend who wanted to come visit. To say I was excited is an understatement. I apologized to her over and over again about me being overwhelming in my planning and my talking. I was used to continuously making plans with my boyfriend and that has come to a screeching halt. I've been chomping at the bit to make plans. I've also had very few friends in my life recently who I could sit with and talk with for hours. And right now I have a lot to say (you can take out the words right now...I have a lot to say). I needed to fit in so many activities and years of conversations into one long weekend. I made up a few itineraries to give her options. And yes, some downtime was included.
First, though, I had to get the house ready for her to come visit. Now, there are people in life who are organized and cleaning up their house for company just entails some sprucing up and a little more attention to certain details. And then there are people like me. People who need the pressure of someone coming over to get motivated to straighten up. I have always been this way.
I have clutter. I don't have homes for all the clutter. I find homes and yet somehow even they get lost. It takes me hours - no days - to get ready for company. I turn on some music - lately it has been "Alexa, play Taylor Swift." I get overwhelmed on where to start so I pick a room. I pick a corner. And I work my way out. That goes ok - until I start putting items where they belong and then I find myself distracted in a new area or room. Oops, I remind myself I wasn't done in the other room or corner. That cycle repeats itself over and over. My dad said he would do the same thing. Oh and let's not forget the time I sit and procrastinate telling myself how I need to be cleaning yet I just somehow don't.
I had to "spruce up" the guest room which involved moving several items to another room. That room is now covered up in extra stuff. Let's say that room did not get displayed on the tour of my house. Before Dad died, I had started boxing items for a yard sale that he and I planned to have in the fall. That never happened.
So those boxes had to stay in the guest room. But I wanted my friend comfortable. I wanted her to feel at home and in a bit of a peaceful respite. To distract from the boxes, I made sure to have towels and linens readily available. I put together a little welcome basket of bottled water, snacks, toiletries, and bath salts - just a little surprise. I think she appreciated the thought.
So what did we do? We did a bit of the "be a tourist in your own town" thing. I planned a hike and possibly a picnic but we got a lot of rain the day she arrived, so we crossed that off the list. Also, she forgot her tennis shoes so there was that.
Friday
The night she arrived, we grabbed a bite to eat at my mom's house - crock pot roast. I was supposed to play ball but it was canceled. So we just hung out at my house [or "The Lounge" as we used to call my living room back in the day]. We drank gross cotton candy wine in my brand new blush colored goblets [that I just had to have] and talked for hours.
I mention the goblets because I was really torn about buying them. I was buying them for some life I don't actually have - a life I sorta used to have (having friends over and hosting small parties)- a life I want again...but a life that I am not currently experiencing [and I don't see it changing anytime soon]. So I only bought 2 because why did I need to buy more? But after a few days of thinking about them and a nudge from my friend, I went back and now I have 4.
Saturday
Saturday morning we woke up leisurely and planned out our day. She made herself some coffee. That smell filled the air.
I turned on softball and presented itinerary options. We opted to go out for a drive and eat at a local burger spot. After we finished up all our activities we headed back to get ready for the evening. We made our way downtown to try out a "new to us" restaurant. The only openings were at the bar but it had a cool ambiance and comfy stools (and yes, normally I would have made a reservation but there was no online option and I hate calling).
I learned what "sous vide" means and we both changed our orders at the last minute. In true to her fashion, my use of the word "pungent" was actually the selling point for her decision. Go figure. We watched the bartender tell a guy "no" when he asked for a certain bourbon, yet my friend saw it sitting there plain as day on the shelf. Things that make you go hmmm? Our food was amazing, though the pork belly was not nearly as delish as what I had in Chicago.
After dinner, we went to throw axes. It was tons of fun. I am ready to go back. We both had thrown axes before out at a friend's farm years ago - because we're both cool and trendy like that (said dripping in sarcasm). My friend was a natural. I, however, struggled (i.e. was terrible) and both guys working there had to give me pointers. And it worked, at least for a little while - long enough for me to beat her at a rousing game of 21. Thank you. No applause needed.
Sunday
The next day we got up early and went to a church I had visited the week before. Our afternoon plan was to drive down, meet up with a couple other friends, and go out to eat. It was good for all of us, I think, to catch up with one another. We had become very good friends in a short period of time. It had been a while since we had all been together but we didn't miss a beat. These are some of my favorite people and they exist in some of my absolute favorite memories. It's because of them that my time moving to a new city went so well.
The plan was to play a board game when we got back but we ended up going for a walk. We hung out at "The Lounge" again (so much better than saying my living room). She has been one of my favorite people to just be around and to talk with and dream with. I have missed it. I really value her presence, her mind, her perspective, her insight, and her advice. Mostly I just like being able to be me. I've always been able to show certain sides of myself (the more quiet and reserved side). It took a while before I realized I actually have a pretty goofy side. And I love being around people that let me show it. Those friends, and this friend especially, helped me find that in myself. I hope everyone finds a few people like that in their lives.
Monday
Monday started with a round of bocce ball. Now, I don't know the actual rules but my dad and I played with backyard rules during the summer of 2020. These are the rules we followed. Or so I think. I couldn't definitively remember. It's funny how many little things you realize you need to ask someone after they die.
Monday was going to be kind of a tough day. For a few months, this day had been looming in my mind. An old teammate reached out to several of us former players that the current softball coach was planning on doing a memorial for Dad (he used to coach). Obviously I was touched, but it also created some tension and some anxiety. Not many details were provided which was stressful to me. I wasn't sure what to expect or how to prepare myself. I didn't know what kind of emotion would surface. It was a simple way to honor my dad - to honor a coach. A chair was set aside for him with plants around to be taken home. An old teammate gave a sweet tribute. I got teary eyed but did not break down. I reconnected with a few teammates. And then it was over. Reluctantly, I admitted to my friend how glad I was to have that behind me. I felt sort of guilty. I wouldn't trade it. I appreciated the time taken to honor Dad more than anyone probably really knows. It was truly special. But the anticipation and uncertainty being lifted was a welcomed relief.
Tuesday
Tuesday turned into a pretty restful day for my friend, which she probably needed before making the drive home. She checked out a coffee shop and napped. I had a couple of appointments I couldn't reschedule. One ran a little long so I had her do some of the prep for supper. I put some chicken in a crockpot before I left. I asked her to rinse and cut up the potatoes and asparagus. For most people cooking supper every night is pretty ordinary - not for me. I haven't spent much time cooking. Someone else was usually doing the cooking. The meal ended up being very good and gave me leftovers for a few days. We spent the rest of the night chit chatting and trying to get in any of the conversations we hadn't gotten to yet. And I tried tweaking my lemon drop (or lime drop) recipe.
Why did I take the time to tell about a pretty ordinary weekend? Because it was exactly that. It was a week in my life. A week of connecting with family. A week of feeling like myself. A week of laughing and catching up with old friends. And that is important - more important than I had ever realized before. When you get a chance, embrace the ordinary. It's part of your story and you may just look back at those very ordinary, every day moments and realize that's exactly when you were living.
And those ordinary moments become extraordinary memories.
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